


Your Move

by Tallulah_shark



Category: Killing Eve (TV 2018)
Genre: F/F, Lesbian Character, No Lesbians Die, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:41:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25032607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tallulah_shark/pseuds/Tallulah_shark
Summary: Picking up at the bridge scene at the end of Series 3, this is an imagining of the beginning of Series 4.
Relationships: Eve Polastri/Villanelle | Oksana Astankova
Comments: 3
Kudos: 54





	Your Move

Staring across the bridge, Villanelle’s heart races in her chest. It was a big risk, asking Eve to walk away and never look back like that, and if she was truly honest, she wasn’t sure whether she would turn around to see the back of Eve’s head disappearing into the night.

But that was not the image before her now. The two women stare at each other. Neither moves. _Come on, Eve,_ implores Villanelle. _You have to be the one to make the move this time._ Too many times in the past has Villanelle laid her feelings and her heart on the line. Too many times has she felt the chest-crushing sensation of Eve’s total rejection. She can’t go through that again.

Villanelle studies Eve’s expression, searching for the slightest hint to reveal her intentions, her thoughts. Black curls swirl gently around her love’s face, entwining and caressing each other in a mesmerising dance. Eve’s dark eyes shine out from beneath them, across the divide. The message is clear. Desperation. Desperate for Villanelle to take the lead in this unfamiliar territory. Desperate to run to her, but held back by the fear of the unknown. But Villanelle remains still. She won’t. Not again. Not this time.

Eve’s body makes the slightest movement backwards, as if about to walk away from Villanelle, away from them. Unable to watch Eve choose to walk out of her life again, Villanelle closes her eyes and tilts her head to towards the night sky above. Her face contorts as a silent tear rolls down her cheek.

She remains in this position for a few seconds, as if welcoming the heavens to take her, when something slams hard into her body, knocking her backwards a few paces. In this moment, Villanelle feels totally invisible: to Eve, to Konstantin, to everyone. Not only was she battling the wave of destructive sadness threatening to consume her body, but she was just an insignificant obstacle on the busy pavement for commuters to collide unapologetically with.

Before she can bear to open her eyes and face reality, she feels a strange tickling sensation on her face. And then she realises. Without looking, Villanelle wraps both arms around the trembling body in front of her, buries her face in the blanket of curls and breathes in the intoxicating, familiar scent of the one she loves. Eve. The cyclists, corporate businessmen and women, and joggers weave around the two entwined women, barely noticing that they are witness to the moment that finally makes Villanelle feel complete. Finally, she has found her place, her home. Her family.

After what feels like hours of simply being close to each other, they both pull away, but only enough to look into each other’s eyes. Their arms remain wrapped around each other, as if being close isn’t enough. They need the grounding touch of one another. ‘You came back to me, Eve. You came back.’  
Eve smiles as she brushes away a strand of Villanelle’s hair that had become stuck to her damp cheek, never taking her eyes off Villanelle’s.  
‘I did,’ she whispers, her warm smile reaching her eyes. ‘I’m yours, Villanelle. Yours for always.’

Eve’s eyes move down to rest on Villanelle’s lips, which part slightly as if reading Eve’s mind and giving her permission. Rising onto her toes to match Villanelles height, Eve brushes her lips softly against Villanelle’s. And that is all the confirmation of Eve’s feelings that Villanelle needs. Her self-control fading, she pulls Eve’s body tightly to her own and kisses her with a passion she has never felt before for anyone else, not even Anna. Their lips never parting, Villanelle guides Eve backwards until she feels the cool railings of the bridge firmly against the small of her back. The thrill that Villanelle could easily push her over the edge into the icy water below only encourages Eve more and her kisses become deeper, harder, more intense. Sensing this shift, Villanelle places both hands on the railing behind Eve, one either side of her body, and pulls herself forwards so their bodies are tightly joined. Eve is pinned in place by the protective cage of Villanelle’s arms and body but, rather than panicking like she would have done a year ago, she revels in knowing that she is completely safe with this powerful, dangerous woman.

A cold breeze blows across the water of the river beneath them and whips Eve’s hair around Villanelle’s face. Feeling the cool air closing in, Villanelle unbuttons her coat. Eve suspects, with surprise, that Villanelle is going to be overcome with chivalry and give up her coat but the blonde assassin doesn’t take it off. Instead, she takes one side of her coat in each hand and wraps it around Eve’s back. In the privacy of their coat-tent, Eve allows her hands to wander. She rests one hand on each side of Villanelle’s face, feeling the cool, goose-pimply skin beneath her fingers. Villanelle closes her eyes and enjoys a moment of vulnerability as she allows Eve to touch her. Eve moves her hands down towards Villanelle’s full lips and strokes one thumb across the baby-soft skin. Villanelle sighs and a hum of pleasure escapes from her closed lips. From there, Eve's hands move lower, to her long neck. She pauses for a moment and places her right hand around Villanelle’s neck. She squeezes gently and a smile plays on Villanelle’s lips. In that moment, Villanelle trusts Eve with her life, just as Eve trusts Villanelle.

Opening her eyes, Villanelle gazes at Eve with a warmth reserved only for her.  
‘Let’s go home, baby.’


End file.
